


Hot and Cold

by DressedUpLikeDreams



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Antagonism, Arguing, Desk Sex, F/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2616992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DressedUpLikeDreams/pseuds/DressedUpLikeDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His proximity intimidated her, he could tell. While she didn’t back down an inch, she lifted her chin in a show of defiance, straightened her shoulders in an subconscious attempt to appear taller.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot and Cold

“You knew I didn’t want you speaking with my ex-wife. This is becoming a pattern, Lizzie. You’ve been going behind my back, hiding things from me,” Red said, voice seemingly calm, but with a current of anger hidden beneath that he knew Lizzie would be able to pick up on.

Lizzie looked up, clearly startled by his presence.

“Red,” she said with a half-smile. “I take it you’re still upset?”

Red closed the door to the office and his look of indifference dropped immediately.

“Upset.” He nearly snarled. He walked over, leaving the desk between them. “I would say that’s an understatement, _Agent Keen_.”

She sighed. “Only you can make that sound like an insult.” She looked at him sternly over her glasses, that patented reproachful teacher look. Red smirked.

“Truth be told, Lizzie, I do have to compliment you on tonight. Aram, your little pet tech geek, played his part to perfection.” He leaned in. “Tell me, does his loyalty stem from the day the blacksite was infiltrated, or did you throw in a few _favors_?” His suggestive tone made it very obvious what he meant by favors.

The jibe didn’t miss its target. For a moment, the anger flared brightly in her eyes, and Red’s smirk widened. When she spoke again, her voice was cold as ice, all trace of good humor gone.

“What exactly are you trying to imply, Mr. Reddington?”

“I would’ve thought that to be quite obvious, Lizzie.” He placed as much emphasis on the use of her given name as she had on the polite “Mr. Reddington” she seemed to favor when annoyed with him.

“Don’t push me, Red. I could refuse to work with you like I’d originally intended and watch you disappear into a hole never to be heard from again.”

He snorted. “Of course. That’s what any good dictator would do when opposed.”

“You would know,” she said, with a smirk of her own. “You are quite good at it. With all those whispers about the much esteemed Diane Fowler….”

Incensed, Red rounded the desk.

“Are you trying to threaten me, Lizzie?”

His proximity intimidated her, he could tell. While she didn’t back down an inch, she lifted her chin in a show of defiance, straightened her shoulders in an subconscious attempt to appear taller.

“I don’t know, Red. Is there anything you should feel threatened by?”

Standing so close, he could smell her perfume.

“You smell nice. Someone coming by later?” he sneered.

“Abrupt change of subject… Clearly you do have things to hide.”

“You know well enough that what happened with Diane Fowler was in the everyone’s best interests.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t know. Neither does anyone else,” she replied coolly.

 _Infuriating woman_. He grabbed her arm moving forward, effectively trapping her between him and the desk. She tried to get out of his grip, but he was stronger. Encouraged now that he had the upper hand again, he pressed on.

“I would _strongly_ advise against going down that path,” he warned, his face so close to hers their noses were almost touching.

“Let go of me.” She sounded angry, but he could see the small flicker of fear in her eyes. It was intoxicating, the first time he’d truly felt in control in her presence. He pressed a bit closer, just to see that look in her eyes again. His body against hers, he could feel the heat of her body, her perfume all around him, drawing him in, making him light-headed. He wasn’t aware he was kissing her until she shoved him away.

The increased distance helped his senses to return. The apology died on his lips, however, when Lizzie grabbed his shirt, pulling him back to her. The kiss was urgent, angry. Both of them gasped for breath when they broke apart again. She cleared the desk behind her, shoving everything aside with one arm, the other still clutching at his shirt. The invitation clear, he lifted her, sitting her up on the desk. She didn’t bother with the buttons, simply untucked his shirt from his pants and hiked it up, her hands roaming freely while her mouth met his for another hungry kiss. He returned in kind, his own hands seeking to touch as much as he could reach of her thighs, her tempting ass. She moaned into his mouth as he squeezed lightly.

He broke the kiss, moving his mouth down to kiss her neck. She swatted at him, clearly not wanting him to leave marks. Annoyed by the rejection, he roughly pushed her upper body down on the desk, then dragged her hips closer and unzipped his fly. She hiked up her skirt higher while he took himself in hand, stroking himself to hardness. She caught his gaze for a moment, before directing it back to her center by pulling her panties out of the way, running a single finger over her exposed sex. He shivered, hardening further at the sight. Then she put that finger in her mouth with a teasing smile, and all coherent thought left him. He grabbed her hip tightly with one hand, guiding himself inside with the other. Never letting go of her hip, he tangled his fist in her hair, forcing her to sit up, crushing their mouths together, teeth clicking, lips bruising. Her hands returned to his body, nails digging painfully into his back. All the while, he thrust inside of her, tension coiling in his stomach with each stroke.

“This good for you?” he let out breathlessly when they broke apart.

“Shut up,” she said, and kissed him again.

In response, he pulled her hair tighter, until she let out a moan. He thrust hard, further emphasizing his control over her. She squeezed around him in retaliation, making him loosen his grip. Then she shoved him, and he fell back, his dick sliding out of her. If the chair hadn’t been there, he would’ve tumbled to the floor.

She hopped off the table, straddled him and sunk down on his cock before he could react, her eyes and smile mocking. He took her face in both hands, pulling her down for a kiss. She started to move, and his hands dropped to her shoulders, and lower, tracing her shoulder blades before moving around to cup her breasts, lightly. She broke the kiss, stopping the movement of her hips.

“What’s the matter, Red? Lost your edge?”

He smirked.

“Tsk, tsk, so impatient.” Her expression darkened. His smirk widened, and he leaned in to whisper. “Take off your blouse, then I’ll show you edgy.”

When he looked back at her, her eyes were dark with lust. She pawed at his shirt, murmuring.“You, too.”

He obliged, undoing the buttons on his shirt while she unbuttoned her blouse. He watched eagerly as she shrugged it off, staring at her bra as though he hoped to melt it away with the intensity of his gaze. She smirked a little as she unclasped the thing, taking it off in one fluid motion. For a moment, he just stared.

“Some edge, that is,” she commented, amused.

He leaned in to kiss her right breast. He worked his tongue around the nipple. He bit down lightly, drawing a moan from her lips. He smiled and pulled back, taking her breasts in both hands. She kissed him, her hips resuming their lazy rhythm up and down his cock. He kept up his ministrations, hoping to coax more of those lovely sounds from her. He could sense her getting closer by the increasingly erratic sliding of her hips, when suddenly she stopped and got off him.

For one long second, he thought she might actually leave him sitting there. Then she bent over her desk. From his vantage point in the chair, he could see her cunt glisten between her spread legs. When he didn’t get up immediately, she looked over her shoulder at him, clearly annoyed. Suddenly, he felt a desperate urge to make her beg. He got up, lined up behind her, teased her with just the head of his cock.

“What!?” She snapped.

He blinked. “What do you want?”

She glared.

“Tell me,” he insisted. “Tell me all those dirty little fantasies you’ve been having about me.”

She made to get up, but he pushed her back down with one hand in her neck, holding her there.

“You’re enjoying this, Lizzie, don’t deny it.”

He could sense the exact moment she gave in, could feel her body slacken beneath his hand.

“Fuck me. Hard. Make me feel it. I know you want to.”

He almost came there and then. Instead he complied, shoved himself inside her, pushing in and out of her as hard and fast he could, the table shuddering along with every thrust. He kept holding her down, kept her unable to move within his grasp except for the jutting of her hips as they tried to meet his pace. As he got close, he bent down, seeking the friction of her body against his, drinking in every one of her moans. He let his hands wander down, seek her clit, while dragging her even closer to him. She ground against his hand, pinning it against the table’s edge. He ignored the awkward angle of his hand, just fucked her harder, pushed deeper until she came with a muffled shout, clenching around him. A few thrusts later he followed, slumping on her back.

She didn’t let him bask for long. Too soon, she pushed him off and stood up from the desk. He followed reluctantly. When he tried to grab her hips, meaning to lean in for a kiss, she pushed him away.

“What? No kiss?” He asked cheerfully.

She turned to him, one eyebrow raised expectantly, and not in a good way. Clearly, she intended to give him the cold shoulder. He wasn’t about to let that happen, the euphoria still thrumming through his body. He grabbed her wrists, ignoring her attempts to yank herself free as he pinned her to the desk once more. Only then did he let go of her, letting his hands rest on her hips as he smiled at her. She regarded him coolly. He responded by kissing her on the mouth, grinning happily.

It surprised her. He could see her thawing a little.

“I apologize for earlier,” he told her earnestly.

“You, apologizing? I should call someone to witness this.” She turned to the phone on her desk.

“Hilarious,” he said, intercepting her arm. “But will I admit I was rude in my accusations, even if they were true.”

She rolled her eyes at that.

“You’re denying you spent time with our dear friend Aram at your little work party?” he asked.

“I’d always wondered about your absence on that festive occasion,” she said, smirking. “Now I know you spent the day spying on me.”

He laughed. “I wish. No, I had business to attend to while you all got to drink and be merry.”

“Poor you.”

“I always get the short end of the stick,” he said, mock-sadly.

“Aw, Red, it’s not that short,” she teased, pointedly looking down.

“Minx.” He kissed her again.

She lifted a hand to his chest, lightly caressing the hairs there with her index finger.

“It’s been a long day, I’m a bit tired. Think you could go, let me get some stuff together and head home to sleep?” She asked, her voice sweet, with just a hint of vulnerability.

She could get the people to move mountains for her with that voice. It made her dangerous, that power, and it drew Red to her all the more.

“I will see you tommorrow?”

“We do have a meeting. I’ll save you a seat beside me.”

“Perfect,” he said. “How low-cut will your blouse be, and will I need to bring a change of underwear?”

“If you plan on wetting yourself.”

“I’m not the one I’m planning on getting wet.”

She rolled her eyes, even as she laughed. Then she looked down at his pants.

“As you don’t seem able to keep yourself clean in my presence, I think a change of clothes might be a good idea, Red.”

He cursed as he noticed the stains on his pants, zipping his fly and wiping at them uselessly. That was one bad impression he could really do without, there were already enough rumors about him and Lizzie.

His eyes widened when the coffee mug entered his view, but he was too late to even jump away as Lizzie threw the dark brown liquid in his lap. He looked up, shocked. She could barely contain her giggles.

“The look on your face…”

“You threw coffee on me!”

“Don’t whine, it was long gone cold. Now your pants have more acceptable staining. You could even accuse me of trying to kill your ability to procreate, I’m sure it’ll be a very lively story in your hands.”

He grinned. “Quick thinking. I do love your brains, and I’m not saying that just to get to be with you again.”

She swatted at him. “Shoo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll think to bring a change of pants,” he said, walking to the door. “Because I don’t trust you not to throw hot beverages at me next.”

Her laughter followed him out.

When the door fell shut behind him, he rested against in for a moment. He’d come to express his displeasure, maybe even get some confessions out of her in the process. He got so much more than he bargained for. With a new spring in his step, Red made off towards the elevator.


End file.
